Simply Put: VolkeSothe
by GamberDragon
Summary: FE 9&10. Drabbles and oneshots following the alphabet for the pairing Volke/Sothe. Yaoi
1. Alone

**Simply Put: Volke/Sothe**

Disclaimer: I own . . . Well, I do not own Fire Emblem.

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**A**lone

Volke was used to a life of solitude, in fact, he enjoyed it and would have it no other way. Alone. And yet, at the sight of a mop of green hair and eyes that once could

have belonged to Volke himself . . . The assassin found himself second guessing his earlier ideals.

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A/N: Very short. Most of the other twenty-five will be short also, with an occasional longer one.

Reposted here, as this is my new account.


	2. Bewitching and Close Proximity

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**B**ewitching

In the opinion of Volke, there was nothing quite as amazing as Sothe. Everything about the boy surprised, intrigued, and attracted the assassin. Whether it be the thief's tendency to bit his bottom lip and stare off into space when thinking, or when he would stare up at Volke with golden-brown eyes in curiosity when learning a new combat move . . . Or even the serene expression he had on his face when sleeping. It all had the same effect.

It bewitched him.

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**C**lose Proximity

When he was younger, Sothe found that being close to people was tough to come by, even with Micaiah…He cared immensely about her, and yet, intimacy with

anyone seemed to scare her. So he learned to suppress any cuddling urges. But, with a lover like Volke, shockingly, he _had_ to get used to close proximity.

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A/N: Reviews are appreciated. Not much to review though...


	3. Distance

Simply Put: VolkeSothe

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**D**istance

As the last of the army crossed the Daein bridge, Sothe cursed at himself for being foolish enough to be left behind. He took one step and touched the stone of the bridge . . . However, two strong arms slipped around his waist and pulled him back.

Sothe's heart raced. Apparently he wasn't the only one still on the other side of the bridge.

"V-volke!?"

The assassin merely chuckled, "The rest of the army will be busy fighting Petrine at the moment, let's take this as a good opportunity, hm? At this distance, they won't be able to hear you no matter how loud you get."

Sothe found himself blushing heavily, but . . . It _was _an intriguing thought.

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A/N: R&R


	4. Everlasting and Final Goodbye

**Simply Put: VolkeSothe**

**Disclaimer: **I do now own Fire Emblem!

**Everlasting**

Even though they hadn't seen each other in three years, and the circumstances of their parting none to favorable… Sothe remembered Volke as the first person he had ever loved; and from the looks of it, the last person as well. That was their love - Everlasting.

**Final Goodbye**

The sounds of feet on the floor of the platform seemed to be more distant than it actually was…Sothe couldn't move his eyes away from the man in his arms - the man breathing his last breath, "V-volke…" the whisper's voice caught in his throat and tears burned in his eyes.

"Don't leave me…"

Ike could only send one regretful look towards the two on the ground, but he had a battle to fight with the former Prime Minister of Begnion. Others sent their sadness to the assassin's death, and Sothe's grief, but left the two alone.

Stefan's eyes had gone blank, a frown etched on his face; Soren merely sighed, but acknowledged the skilled man's death. Zihark mourned the loss of a strong love, and Edward felt for his green-haired friend on the floor.

Sothe stared into eyes of his lover, anguish filling him at the sight of the lights in the man's eyes dimming…

"Please…"

Micaiah was finally able to piece together what had been bothering her friend for so long…Her golden-brown eyes filled with tears for the loss Sothe had to endure. Pain filled her own heart to see the boy she saw as a brother in such misery.

"Volke…Stay with me."

Mist gritted her teeth in frustration as her healing magic did little to heal the dieing man. Eventually, she gave up, tears leaking from her eyes, even as Gatrie held her in his arms.

"I love you…"

Volke weakly lifted a hand before he dropped it, "Little thief…"

Sothe bent down, "Volke…" he understood even without words what the assassin wanted. He removed the man's mask and lowered his lips to the other's.

It was gentle, and almost one-sided because of the dieing man's rapidly decreasing strength…Sothe desperately clung on to the last kiss, drops of salty liquid falling on the his lover's face, he tasted copper from in between the other's lips. Volke stopped responding completely and Sothe pulled away, face contorted in pain.

"No…NO!" he screamed.

Sothe barely even noticed when Micaiah pulled him into her arms comfortingly, whispering softly and soothingly. He had never felt more alone…

The battle ended and the doors leading to Ashera opened…

"Volke…Goodbye."

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A/N: Ah death scenes…They shouldn't be fun to write. Hrm.

Reviews are loved. That's just one way for Volke to die...The rest of the drabbles don't have to lead up to this! I'm not sure if I liked the first one, but oh well.


	5. Goddess

Simply Put: VolkeSothe

**Goddess**

Every time Voliek laid eyes on her, she found herself drawn further and further in to the woman's charms. Green hair - the shade of spring grass - hung around her shoulders and down her back, the strands looking silky to the touch.

Golden eyes, bright and intense, intelligent, and fierce - eyes of a shade that reminded Voliek of a wolf. She had so many emotions in those eyes; concern, love, happiness, lust…

Her skin would be creamy if not for the tan from her love of the outside. She had a lithe frame, firm and flexible, not the curviest, but perfect to Voliek none-the-less. Though her chest wasn't the largest, she was gorgeous anyways.

Ambitions of freeing her country, and protecting the ones she loved of her own free will dragged Voliek even closer to her. It intrigued her, piqued her interest, and kept her thoughts focused on her. She was completely different from her, except perhaps their beginnings matching.

To Voliek, Soatherine was like a Goddess, and she was her devout worshipper.

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A/N: Ehehe…Completely AU, therefore, I meant for it to be kind of OC. Fem Volke and Sothe! Crappy name changes, and pointless descriptions of female-Sothe's appearance! Yuri!

God…I'm either really bored, or really tired. Or both. I have been up for two days…And I have nothing to do. Please excuse overall crappiness and grammar errors, I seriously can't think well enough to check over it right now.

Review anyway?


	6. Hail

**Hail**

Disclaimer: Look at the pairing, you know Fire Emblem doesn't belong to me.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates recently, writer's block struck again - anyway, thanks to those who read and/or reviewed on previous chapters.

Sorry if Sothe seems OCC, this is my take on him - how I thought he was in PoR before RD made him into a dislikeable character (in my eyes anyway).

Note, this is set in Path of Radiance.

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The skies were turbulent, not that you'd be looking up there anyway at the moment - for fear of hail disabling you from ever seeing again. The storm had come quickly and quite randomly, one moment the Crimean army was fighting in sunny weather, and in the next, there were small pieces of ice pelting them.

Sothe could barely see what was in front of him, making him edgy - he had no idea when an enemy soldier might turn up. His only comfort was that the opposing force's sight was just as impaired as his was; it wasn't that much of a comfort.

He couldn't tell were most of his allies were, but he could tell Tormod was nearby, the flames of his spells could be felt through the suddenly freezing air easily. Despite his attempts at not being the other boy's friend, as the red head so persistently insisted, he was quite relieved that the mage was nearby.

Even though Tormod was loud, annoying, and garishly covered in orange and green clothing, he was dependable on the battlefield - and Sothe could respect that. He wasn't sure why the other teenager wanted to be his friend so avidly, but such close contact with other kids actually his age made him uncomfortable. It always had; other teenagers would be happy, carefree, and quick to making stupid decisions - while Sothe was always frowning, reserved, and contemplative over his actions.

However…Despite their differences, maybe, just maybe he should hear the other boy out. It would be a change, and so far the other changes in his life had been pretty interesting. In a good way. And one certain change had been probably the best thing in his entire life.

Meeting Micaiah all those years ago on the streets of Daein had been wonderful, he had found the parent he had never had.

But…Meeting Volke left that happiness in the dust (he still wanted to see Micaiah, she was still like his mom, but he wanted to keep Volke close as well).

Sothe blinked rapidly, flinching when a piece of hail pelted him in the eye - maybe being around Tormod had changed him without him knowing. His thought chain had suddenly just taken a random turn, like an easily distracted person's mind! Golden eyes narrowed and Sothe suppressed a groan, was he turning into someone like Tormod?

_Goddess, let's hope not._

Shaking his head, the thief went back into the fray - as much as he could with the increasingly thick storm of hail - trying to push away frightening thoughts.

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A half an hour later and the hail was too large to ignore any longer - both sides of the opposing armies seemed to realize this. Daein retreated, not far away most likely, and Ike gave an order for the Crimean troops to seek immediate shelter.

Camp had already been taken down, which left the army to seek refuge in mother nature.

Sothe tried to find a place to sit down, but the best he could manage was to blindly move around through the now painful storm. He shivered and desperately put his hands out, trying to reach for a tree or rock…anything.

He succeeded in finally running into a boulder, then proceeded to fall down onto his backside, groaning in pain. _I'm glad no one was able to see that._

After gathering himself together again, he felt the rock, searching for a place to escape the hail. Nothing, and his back was beginning to sting - along with the chill beginning to make him feel rather sickly. He collapsed down onto the cold rock and sighed as he suddenly felt very weak.

Vaguely, through the foggy haze of his mind, he heard the sounds of footsteps - he only half-heartedly prayed that it was an ally and not an enemy before he fell unconscious.

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Sothe woke up to a warm, cozy feeling engulfing him… _That's odd, wasn't I being pelted last time I was awake? _Slowly, the thief came to his senses, the feeling of arms wrapped tightly around him made him flutter his eyes open. He came face-to-face with a bare, toned chest - he slowly looked upwards and golden eyes met with dark red ones.

He shifted slightly, and hummed contently, "Any reason you felt it necessary to strip us both down?" a small smile made it's way onto his lips.

"Wet clothing." Volke replied simply.

The green-haired teenager hummed again before replying, "Good enough…" he nuzzled into Volke's embrace, tightening his hold on the older man with his arms and legs.

A satisfied sigh escaped the assassin, "I could almost thank the hail."


	7. Icy

**Simply Put: Volke/Sothe**

Icy

**A/N:** _I have horrible writer's block at the moment, and this seems to be the only thing I can get out at the moment. Sorry to those who read 'One or the Other' or 'SSJAEB', but my inspiration is decidedly lacking at the moment. The only thing I managed to get out (this), is pretty sucky._

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Living on the streets of Daein called for a defensive measure - an impenetrable exterior, a shield to block out the hurt in the world. It included a lack of emotion, bordering none at all.

It worked. Effectively.

However, though it stopped dangerous strangers from breaking into his world, Sothe knew it cut out possible friends as well.

Joining the Crimean Army, first known as the Greil Mercenaries - was supposed to be nothing more than a safe way to find Micaiah. The least amount of contact with his temporary comrades was supposed to be upheld…

…And yet, a man with an even stronger mask than Sothe's seemed to melt right through the thief's so called 'impenetrable defenses'. Making it nothing more than a weak, icy illusion. Golden glares, and decidedly cold stares became nothing in the face of the most unlikely person.

Sothe icy façade melted under Volke's surprisingly heated, true face.


	8. Jealousy

**Simply Put: VolkeSothe**

_Jealousy_

**Tormod:** Fire Emblem belongs soley to Intelligent Systems and Nintendo.

**Haar:** Zzz...

* * *

When Micaiah had said that everything that Sothe said was like an ode to Commander Ike, he had just figured it was just her opinion, and only hers. He had also thought that she was the only one bothered by his admiration of the man.

However, his current situation – being pressed against a wall by a very miffed assassin – changed his mind a bit on the subject.

The only noise that could escape his lips though, was a confused, "Huh?"

Volke glared at him darkly, "Stop. Talking. About. Ike!"

* * *

**Sothe:** I do not talk about Ike too much!

**Volke and Micaiah:** Yes, you do.

**Heather:** It's like hero worship, seriously.

**A/N: **It was short, but I enjoyed writing it. Next letter will be a long one – longer than the others at any rate, and will be one out of four stories. K, Q, P, and S will all be part of a fourshot. Just so you know.


	9. Kiss and Languid

Simply Put: VolkeSothe

K is for **Kiss**

* * *

That's where it began, you know. That simple, exhilarating, press of the lips of one person, to another; a kiss. It was quick, of course, it always starts so damn minutely – in Volke's opinion. One, brief touch and Sothe is backing away like he had just touched fire. His lips are tingling though, not singed, thankfully, so obviously that wasn't it. His breathing is labored, mostly because he had held his breath beforehand, and his eyes are wide as if he's thinking 'I-can't-believe-I-just-did-that'.

Volke raises a brow at him. "Is that it?

"Um…."

A small smirk spread across the other thief's lips. "I suppose it's my turn then." Their lips met again, just as quick as before in the meeting, but much, much longer in the act.

"Mmph!"

"Mmm…."

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**Languid**

Their pants fill the air with hot breath and a constant background noise, their constant shifting and breathless gasps and smacking of lips only adds to the erotic symphony. The younger of the pair feels a hand slip up into his shirt and he moans in delight. His own hands grasp for his lover's shoulders, massaging at the bare skin there – then he lowers his fingers down, down….

Another hand grabs his own, stopping him, "Slow."

Sothe wants to whine at Volke's words. They never get quite past the kissing and the grinding, and it miffs him just the slightest. "…Faster." The pout in his words can practically be heard.

The assassin smirks, "No."

They have all the time in the world to be languid, right?


	10. Misunderstanding

Mine

A/N: …And two years later I finally update this. Well, if anyone is still reading, I apologize, and uh…if you do read. Thank you!

Three years later, and finally, Sothe sees the man who's haunted his dreams with ecstasy, wanting, and lust. Of course, since it's been so long and this is supposed to be an important moment, it happens at _the_ most inopportune time ever.

"…How in the world did you manage to…get stuck together?" Leonardo looked absolutely baffled as he started at Nolan and Sothe – belts somehow welded together – who looked just as confused.

"I'm honestly unsure." Nolan said, scratching his chin.

Sothe added, very irritably. "What's worse is we can't figure out how to undo them. It's like….the buckles are trying to mate with each other and refuse to part until they're…finished." he was met with two blank stares at that. "…What?"

"Well, they need to…finish…soon." Nolan said slowly, a little awkwardly.

Sothe flushed. "Oh, shut up." He turned to Leonardo. "Anything you can do?"

The blonde raised a single eyebrow. "You're the one with the dexterous fingers, Sothe. I'm not sure if I can do what you can't."

Nolan and Sothe exchanged pained glances at that. "…You sure?"

"How about you try pulling away from each other?" the Marksman suggested, looking a little clueless, and much akin to his best friend.

"That's seriously your best suggestion? Really?"

"You don't have anything better, seeing as you're still standing here like useless logs!" the blonde said defensively, going a little red in the face. "Fine, ignore me!" he walked off, leaving the two tied together ones to groan unhappily.

"Should we?" Nolan asked helplessly.

"…I guess we have no choice."

So they tugged away from each other, belts securely tied together. The belts did little more than stretch minimally. Nolan stopped abruptly, "This isn't- oof." It was, of course at this point, with Sothe slamming into the Reaver and falling on top of him as they toppled to the ground, that Volke decided to locate the thief he had unfinished business with.

"That didn't work…."

"…Sothe?"

Gold eyes widened, staring at Nolan – but not quite seeing the man as a voice he thought he'd never hear again filtered through his ears. He barely had the time to shakily glance towards the assassin before a very livid Volke was at their sides with a knife.

Nolan cursed at the sight – sure he was about to be assassinated by a mystery, masked demon – only to cut off when the brunette sliced through Sothe's belt with more force than necessary.

It was a moment that Sothe had been dreaming of for years now – and somehow, the only, absolutely idiotic thing that could escape his mouth was, "A knife! I have one of those!"

Volke growled lowly, dragging the now-beltless teen into his arms, and glaring darkly at the astonished man still on the ground. "No one practices bondage with Sothe except for me." Then he was gone, a still dazed Sothe in tow.

Nolan lay on the ground, quite dazed himself. "B-Bondage?"


	11. Noise

**Noise**

Apparently this is some type of training, teaching him to be able to fight adeptly even when vision is cut off. But, for some reason, Sothe has a feeling that there are better, more efficient ways to do this than Volke dirty-talking in the darkness. Not that it isn't hot, but...he can't forsee his enemy messing with his mind opposed to just running him through with their lance.

A literal run through with a real lance, of course.

"Volke, I don't think -"

The assassin cuts him off. "You aren't even looking in my direction."

"But this just doesn't seem-"

"This training is obviously necessary, because you're still talking in the wrong direction."

Sothe just knows that this is an excuse to bring pleasure into work.


	12. Orphan

**Orphan**

A/N: I was so happy to see that I still have readers...! Thank you so much, everyone.

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"I was...alone until Micaiah found me. Up until that point, I hadn't known how..."

Volke watched his young lover patiently, garnet eyes focused soley on the teenager, unexplainably curious about the greenette's life.

Eventually, Sothe found the will to continue. "I hadn't known how lonely I was." He frowned down at his hands. "I owe her everything...I'll protect her until the day I die."

Nothing was said to that statement. Volke would never admit just how much that filled him with a keen sense of disappointment.

"Volke...?" Sothe asked carefully, a light in those golden eyes.

"Hn?"

"What about you...? What was it like growing up?"

For a little while, Volke has no response, eyeing the now embarrased looking boy. For some reason, it doesn't seem right to just stay silent after Sothe admitted something personal. So he speaks, actually surprising the green-haired thief.

"I was an orphan."

"Oh..." Sothe has another thing to mentally note as a similarity between them. "Did you...have someone to save you?"

For a moment, Volke remembers a smiling, constantly-talking-in-riddles blonde boy dragging him to a castle where he was bathed and fed. Then his eyes go to the small teenager in front of him, and takes in the curious sparkle that always makes something leap inside him without fail. "I had a couple."

"Oh..." Sothe just looks at him in confusion, waiting for him to improvise. Volke smirks slightly, and remains silent. As the greenette sighs in barely-concealed frustration, he can't help but drag the teenager over to his lap, just embracing those small shoulders and silently thanking him.


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